


Call Failed

by ashtxns



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Skype, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtxns/pseuds/ashtxns
Summary: [09:15 PM] Michael Clifford: I didn’t have the heart to go in. Couldn’t face the kids, your kids, as you always called them, your students. They would’ve asked questions. Wasn’t ready for that.[09:23 PM] Michael Clifford: Goddamn it, Calum.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it's been 84 years since i last wrote malum and here we are with probably (definitely) the saddest thing i've ever written lmao because i can't for the life of me write something with a happy ending
> 
> anyways! i powered through this and finished it in one night so i could finally post it

**[09:12 PM] Michael Clifford:** There’s a picture of you at the local music school.

 **[09:13 PM] Michael Clifford:** Thought you wanted to know. You loved teaching there.

 **[09:15 PM] Michael Clifford:** I didn’t have the heart to go in. Couldn’t face the kids, your kids, as you always called them, your students. They would’ve asked questions. Wasn’t ready for that.

 **[09:23 PM] Michael Clifford:** Goddamn it, Calum.

-

Michael is eight when he meets Calum.

He’s down at the lake, the water going halfway up to his wellingtons, his grip tight on the fisher net. His mum told him not to venture out too far in the water, always followed by a hair ruffle, a kiss to the forehead, a _don’t be late for dinner._ Michael has been coming to the lake behind their house since he was six, since his father took him one day, when his fascination with tadpoles started.

And now he’s here, staring silently down into the water, careful not to move, and slightly raises his fisher net. That all gets destroyed, though, when he hears a splash to his left and the tadpoles are scurrying away and Michael frowns at the boy who’d been making that noise.

“Hey!” he calls out and the boy looks up. He’s about Michael’s age, with brown skin and dark hair, dressed in a simple white shirt and shorts, but he waded in deeper into the lake, his wellington’s filling up with water but the boy doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re scaring them away,” Michael says, glaring. “The tadpoles.”

“Sorry,” the boy says, not sounding sorry at all. He grins and Michael sees that his front tooth is missing. “Why d’ya wanna catch them?” he asks as soon as he spots the net in Michael’s hand.

Michael shrugs. “I like them,” he says, scratching his nose. "Are you new here? Never seen you before.”

The boy straightens his posture, his grin widening. “Yup! Moved from New Zealand. In my hometown there wasn’t any woods or a lake so as soon as I saw this, I had to come here!” He babbles on, excitedly, then points to something in the distance, behind Michael’s head. “We live there!” Michael turns and follows the boy’s finger and his eyes light up when he spots the house the boy’s pointing to.

“Hey, we’re neighbours!” Michael exclaims.

“Really?” The boy’s eyes widen and he laughs. “My name’s Calum.”

“Michael.”

“Nice to meet ya, Michael,” Calum replies. He nods to Michael’s net. “So, what d’ya say, wanna catch tadpoles? I promise I’ll be quiet.”

Michael grins. “Okay.”

-

 **[01:23 AM]** **Michael Clifford:** Luke asked me if I wanted to go out tonight. Said I needed to leave my apartment or else I’ll go crazy.

 **[01:24 AM] Michael Clifford** : What the fuck does he know. He’s probably only doing this because Ashton asked him to.

 **[01:26 AM]** **Michael Clifford:** They’re talking about me. I know it. They think I don’t notice the looks they’re sending each other when they visit but. Fuck. They don’t know what I’m going through. They said it’s been almost six months but it doesn’t feel like that. Six months since you left. Six months, Calum.

 **[01:27 AM]** **Michael Clifford:** How come they can get over you so easily, but not me? What have you done to me?

-

“Mikey?” The voice cuts through the silence which had settled over them and Michael turns his head slightly to the right to face Calum, vaguely making out the contours of his face through the dark. The only source of light are Calum’s glow-in-the-dark stars glued on the ceiling but they’re not helping much.

Michael hums in response, signalling Calum to go on.

“I –“ Calum obviously struggles for words, falling silent more than once. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet, right?” he asks eventually.

Michael’s face heats up and he’s glad for the darkness. “No,” he says.

“Me either,” answers Calum, quietly. “And we’re almost 14. Isn’t this kinda lame?”

Michael shrugs, the movement brushing their shoulders together on Calum’s small bed. “I don’t know,” Michael says. “Why are you worrying so much?”

Calum is silent, searching for the right words. He settles for, “I don’t know,” and Michael knows Calum, knows him better than the back of his hands, and knows this isn’t what Calum originally wanted to say, but he lets it slide. “Why don’t you just lie and say you’ve already had it?” Michael suggests.

Calum makes a noise of frustration. “Then it’s cheating, Mikey!” he says, the _duh_ implied. “I wanna understand what everyone’s talking about.”

“You can kiss me,” Michael says, the words out of his mouth before he can process them, too late to take them back now, already out in the open, and suddenly the darkness feels heavy, it’s choking him, the silence unbearable, and Michael’s face is burning up. “If you want,” he adds on.

“You would do that?” Calum whispers. “For me?”

Michael nods. “Yeah,” he whispers back.

He feels movement and then Calum’s face is hovering above his, his lips slightly parted. His face is hard to make out in such dim light but Michael knows there’s a slight blush on his face. “Okay,” says Calum and nods. “Okay,” he says again.

Michael cracks a grin. “Calm down, is just me.”

Calum huffs, his breath fanning Michael’s face. “I know that. Isn’t this weird?”

“Only if you make it weird.”

“Smartass,” Calum replies, but there’s a smile tugging on his lips and the tension is broken. He nods to Michael’s face. “So, I just – ?”

In one movement, Michael lifts his head up and presses his lips to Calum’s. A surprised noise leaves Calum’s mouth but then he’s kissing back and it feels kinda – nice, is the word Michael settles for and he realizes it fits. Kissing Calum feels nice. Natural, even.

They break apart and both their faces are flushed but they’re wearing identical grins. “Thanks,” says Calum.

Michael nods. “Didn’t wanna listen to your whining anymore.”

Calum swats his arm, then lays back down, his head on Michael’s shoulder. “Asshole,” he says fondly.

-

 **[05:15 PM]** **Michael Clifford:** They took your picture down. At the music school. There’s probably still a picture of you inside your old room, but…it feels weird. Knowing that passengers on the street won’t stop at your picture at the door and wonder about you. It’s like everyone’s gradually forgetting about you.

 **[05:17 PM]** **Michael Clifford:** Your bass is still there too. In your classroom. I’ve thought about getting it but they probably won’t give it to me. I’m not immediate family, anyways. Maybe it should stay there, y’know, for your students to think about you when they see it. Remember you.

 **[05:18 PM]** **Michael Clifford:** Do you remember that old saying that you die twice? I wonder if that’s true.

-

Calum moves away after they’ve graduated high school.

He’s moving back to New Zealand to attend university there and he said they’ll keep in touch, he’ll come visit but – but Michael knows. These are just empty promises made at two a.m. to fill the silence in the room after his confession, to avoid talking about how Calum’s eyes looked glassy, stained with tears, how Michael looked impassive, only a slight furrow in his eyebrows indicating that he’d reacted to the news, _how_ he’d reacted to the news, promises made to keep them from reaching over, to touch one another, to keep them (Michael) from screaming, from crying, from accusing him – _you promised, Calum, you promised_ –

Promises always end up being broken, is what Michael learned.

It’s three in the morning and Michael can’t sleep.

It’s three in the morning and Michael _knows_ he shouldn’t but he does anyway, reaches over to grab his phone and one heartbeat later he’s already unlocked it, pulled up his contacts and clicked on Calum’s name.

It rings once, twice, and Michael’s telling himself to _hang up_ , it hasn’t been a whole day since Calum left and _he would’ve left you a message anyway_ –

“Mikey?”

Michael’s heartbeat stops.

“Hi,” he breathes out.

“Hey,” comes Calum’s over the line. “Everything okay?”

“Uhm. Yeah.” Michael feels stupid now and scrambles in his head for a good excuse to hang up. “Flight went well?”

“Yeah. I’m in my dorm now.”

Something tugs at Michael’s heart when he realizes that Calum probably wasn’t planning on calling him any time soon.

“That’s good,” he says lamely. “You’re not seeing your family?”

“Nah,” says Calum and there’s a sound of something hitting the floor. “Visiting them the weekend before uni starts. Not ready for the whole family meet-up. Haven’t seen them in years.”

Michael hums in response. “So, I –“

“Why did you call?” Calum interrupts him. He doesn’t sound mad or upset, just – curious. As to why Michael would call him, as if they haven’t been best friends since they were eight years old, as if they weren’t teetering on the edge of best friends slash lovers, as if they hadn’t had their first kiss together, as if Calum hadn’t kissed him again when they were sixteen and then again at their graduation party, but always after he’d been drinking, always intoxicated. Michael grips the phone tighter.

“Do I need a reason?” he asks, sounding indifferent and priding himself that his voice didn’t crack.

Now it’s Calum’s turn to stutter. “Uhm, no, it’s – it’s nice. That you called. Nice to hear your voice.”

“Yeah,” Michael whispers. “’s nice.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Calum’s voice is quiet and he’s sniffling, or maybe that’s just Michael’s wishful thinking, that Calum would cry over _him_ –

 _Sorry for what?_ he wants to scream into the phone. _For leaving me? For promising not to leave and then you do just that at the next best opportunity?_

He takes a deep breath. “It’s okay.”

“I – “ Calum sounds like he wants to say more but then falls silent. “I miss you, Mikey.”

The nickname hurts him and his chest tightens but all he says is, “Yeah. Miss you too.” He’s never been the eloquent type. He’s always been the one to say what’s on his mind but he found himself that it’s not quite easy with Calum because Calum made him feel things he’s never felt before, Calum made him feel brave but at the same afraid – afraid to speak his feelings, afraid to get rejected and, _god_ , what a fucking mess they both were, never saying the right thing, always missing the opportunity, always missing each other. So, with Calum, he sticks to short answers, to confessions in the middle of the night when he was alone and couldn’t sleep, to longing in his eyes and a tugging at his chest he wasn’t quite ready to deal with.

“Good night, Mikey,” Calum whispers, seemingly thinking that Michael has fallen asleep because he’s been quiet for too long but Michael doesn’t object. He stays silent, waits for Calum to hang up, but Calum’s still there, he can still hear his breathing over the line until, eventually, Calum softly says, “Miss you” and then hangs up. A few minutes pass before it becomes too much and Michael grabs his headphones and plugs them in, turning the volume up high.

He can’t deal with silence. He can deal with almost anything except the loneliness that silence brings. And he can, in no way, deal with the silence that Calum brings.

-

 **[02:45 PM] Michael Clifford:** Luke and Ashton are engaged. This is – this is so crazy to me.

 **[02:50 PM] Michael Clifford:** Fuck.

 **[02:52 PM] Michael Clifford:** I know what you’re thinking right now. I am happy for them. But this feels – this feels weird. They’re moving on with their lives. And it just fucking hurts to know that you won’t be attending the wedding, you won’t be picking out your tux with Luke, you won’t be organizing his bachelor party – because, fuck, of course he’d make you his best man, everyone thought I was his best friend but. Not really. You were the one who introduced us and who put an end to our stupid fighting. You were the one who held our friendship group together, even after Ashton came along. You always made sure that we’d meet up every month. And – and now you’re not here and you won’t be coming to their wedding and – you’d tell me now to stop being so sentimental, I know.

 **[02:55 PM] Michael Clifford:** It’s just – it’s crazy.

 **[02:56 PM] Michael Clifford:** Ashton asked me to be his best man. And I said yes, of course, but I’m worried. Luke has his brothers, he’ll probably ask one of them, but – it’s gonna be weird, looking up and not seeing you, y’know? God, I should stop talking, I’m not even making any sense.

 **[03:01 PM] Michael Clifford:** We were never there, we were? We were never at a point to seriously think about marriage. We never quite reached that. We might’ve. We might’ve made it. I think we almost made it.

-

“Called it.”

Ashton throws Calum a glare while Luke just snorts. “No, you didn’t.”

“Hmm, I did. From the moment we first met you. Right, Michael? Tell them. Tell them I called it.” Calum nudges his shoulder and Michael raises an eyebrow at his playful smirk.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Michael!” Calum gasps, putting a hand over his heart. “You’ve betrayed me.”

(They’ve found each other again. It’s taken months, years, but in the end Calum came back, right after graduating uni, and it finally clicked between them. Michael isn’t sure what it was – maybe they’ve matured, maybe Calum has come to his senses, maybe the world is going to end and is allowing Michael one last chance of happiness – something happened, something clicked, and they found each other. They weren’t quite there yet but – they were on their way.)

Michael takes a sip of his beer. “You’ll get over it,” he says, ignoring Calum’s pout and turning to Luke and Ashton. “Congrats you two. Although we did kinda suspect it after the third time when Ashton picked up Luke’s phone when I called, suspiciously out of breath and in a hurry to hang up.”

“I never bought your excuse that you were ‘jogging’,” Calum says, putting air quotes around _jogging_. “Who goes jogging anyways? Not you two, that’s for sure.”

“We like to stay in shape,” Ashton says.

“And we don’t even leave the bedroom for that,” Luke adds.

Michael puts a hand over his mouth to hide his laughter and Calum glances at him before addressing Luke. “Please tell me Donatello didn’t see anything. He must have been traumatized.”

At the mention of Luke’s cat, Ashton scrunches up his nose. “No, we mostly stayed at my apartment.”

Michael gasps. “You left him all alone? Poor Donatello.”

“He can survive a couple of hours alone,” Luke says. “Also, I feel like he’s getting more distant with me.” He pouts a little, staring into his beer glass. “Doesn’t seem that excited anymore when I come home.”

“He probably knows you’re dating a cat-hater,” Calum says, dodging Ashton’s punch.

“I don’t hate cats,” Ashton stresses. “I just can’t stay around them for that long because of my allergy.”

“Sucks to be you,” Michael says. “Cats are the best thing to ever happen to us.”

“Uh, I think you mean dogs,” Calum replies, throwing him an irritated look. “Dogs are the best thing to ever happen to us.”

Before Michael can open his mouth and before this can blow up into another argument which they definitely did not have back in school and they definitely did not have a discussion with actual sentences like _cats only want one thing and that’s world domination_ thrown in, Luke interrupts. “Anyways, I only know one thing for certain and that is Donatello is definitely staying in the family. Sorry, Ashton.”

Ashton shrugs. “I can live with him.”

Calum _awws_ at them. “Already planning your future, are we, lovebirds?”

Luke’s face grows darker in the bar lights but Ashton interlaces their fingers together, grinning smugly. “Jealous of our happy and fulfilling relationship, are we, Calum?”

“Well, fuck you too, Irwin,” Calum says flatly, promptly ordering a cocktail.

-

 **[01:33 AM] Michael Clifford:** fuck you calum. fuck. you.

 **[01:35 AM] Michael Clifford:** how fucking dare you

 **[01:36 AM] Michael Clifford:** you can’t just. fucking leave me

 **[01:37 AM] Michael Clifford:** you promised

 **[01:38 AM] Michael Clifford:** i just wanna

 **[01:38 AM] Michael Clifford:** rewind back to the day of the accident. maybe – if you had left just a minute later it wouldn’t have happened

 **[01:39 AM] Michael Clifford:** if you were here you’d tell me to shut up and stop blaming myself

 **[01:39 AM] Michael Clifford:** but fuck

 **[** **01:40 AM] Michael Clifford:** its so easy to blame myself

_[01:45 AM] Call failed_

**[01:47 AM] Michael Clifford:** please

-

There’s light shining through the windows and Michael blinks against it, letting his eyes adjust before rolling over. The sheets are a tangled mess around their legs and Michael grins when he sees Calum’s bare chest and the various hickeys on his neck before draping an arm around his waist. Calum awakens, rolling onto his side, and blinking sleepily at Michael. “Hi,” he yawns.

“Morning,” Michael quietly says, leaving a soft kiss on Calum’s shoulder. “Happy birthday,” he murmurs.

It takes a moment for Calum to catch on. “Oh! Right.” He grins down at Michael. “It’s my birthday.”

Michael hums.

“Which means I get to do anything I want.”

“Pretty sure you already do that.”

Calum ignores him. “Which means,” he says, leaning closer. “Birthday sex.” Michael scrunches up his nose at his morning breath. “After you’ve brushed your teeth maybe,” he says.

“Maybe?” Calum repeats indignantly. “I’m hurt.”

Michael grins. “You didn’t have enough last night?”

“Mikey,” Calum whines, poking him in his side. “It’s my birthday. Aren’t you supposed to do whatever I want?”

“Really?” Michael asks, grin widening. “Did you do everything I wanted on my birthday?”

“Uh, I gave you a birthday blowjob.”

“That’s all?”

Calum furrows his brows. “I did! What, you expected dinner at a fancy restaurant? Sorry to crush your bubble, but I am broke. I work as a teacher.”

“At a music school,” Michael replies. “You’re a cool teacher.”

“Yeah, I guess I am, you’re right – hey!” Calum glares. “Stop changing the subject.”

Michael presses another kiss to Calum’s shoulder. “Was joking. Didn’t want something fancy anyway.”

“Yeah?” Calum asks.

Michael nods. “Spending the day with you was enough.”

“Good. Get ready for your next birthday then because I’ve a got a big surprise coming.”

“And what’s that?”

“Two birthday blowjobs!”

“Wow.” Michael pulls back and laughs. “So generous of you.”

Calum shrugs. “I know I am.”

“But,” Michael says, leaning back in and ghosting his teeth over Calum’s neck. “Today is _your_ birthday. So, what d’ya want?”

“Oh, I get to decide what we do?” Calum asks, a smile in his voice.

“’Course, dumbass.”

“So rude,” Calum mumbles. “Well, you already know what I want.”

Michael sighs, grinning. “Birthday sex?”

“Birthday sex.”

“C’mon here,” he mutters fondly, pulling him in for a kiss.

“What about my god awful morning breath?” Calum mumbles, eyes widening when Michael moves to pull back. “No, no, no!” he protests, pulling him back in. Michael sighs but smiles at him. “Happy birthday,” he whispers.

-

 **[03:24 PM] Michael Clifford:** It's - it's your birthday.

 **[03:26 PM] Michael Clifford:**  Your first birthday without you here. And I feel fine. I think. I don't have the urge to drink myself into a coma, so that's good?

 **[03:27 PM] Michael Clifford:** Luke says he’s proud of me. No idea what the fuck he means. Proud that I’m moving on? What’s so good about that? I guess…I am moving on. But I don’t wanna. I’m scared, Calum. I’m scared that if I let myself move on I’ll forget you and – I don’t wanna forget you. You’re too goddamn important for that.

 **[03:28 PM] Michael Clifford:** Just…if I could turn back time I’d do everything in my power to keep you safe. I’ve been thinking about the day and if there’s one thing I regret it’s – I didn’t say I love you. Did you know? I forgot to say I love you when you left the apartment and I know you knew but. Maybe if I had said it, you would’ve said it back and then you would’ve kissed me again and you would’ve left later than usual and – I wouldn’t have gotten that call. It wouldn’t have been the last time I ever saw you. I guess it’s scary what difference a few minutes can make.

 **[03:30 PM] Michael Clifford:** I gotta go, I’m meeting up with Luke and Ashton. We’ve been talking more since – you left. I guess they’re looking out for me. Don’t know why they bother. I won’t do anything stupid. Maybe – maybe I wanted to, in the first weeks after the accident. But not anymore. I’m okay. Not really, but – you’d understand me.

 **[03:31 PM] Michael Clifford:** Happy birthday.

-

It’s quiet in the apartment.

Michael can hear the clock ticking. The fridge whirring. The radio in the kitchen on low volume.

It’s quiet. He doesn’t like the quiet.

His ears perk up when he hears the lock in the door turning and for one fleeting moment he thinks it was all a dream and Calum just arrived home from work and his voice will call out and then he’ll show up in the doorway to the living room, his hair messy and tie loose, a lazy smile on his face –

“Michael?”

His heart sinks when he recognizes Luke’s voice. He quickly shakes his head, pushing all the scenarios of Calum showing up away, to the back of his mind, and straightens up when he hears approaching footsteps. Luke stops in the doorway.

“Hi,” he says. “You good?”

Michael nods, allowing a little smile on his face, and Luke joins him on the couch. He sets a small silver key on the coffee table, sighing. “The key for the storage room,” he says quietly. “If you wanna go through the boxes again.”

“Thanks.” His voice is hoarse and he blinks the tears away. He hasn’t cried once this morning when they were packing Calum’s stuff into boxes and now the sight of a key is bringing him to tears? Get it together, Michael.

“Thanks for helping,” he says, avoiding Luke’s gaze. “Not only today, but – y’know. Thanks for everything.”

“Of course,” Luke says softly.

The clock ticking. The fridge whirring. The radio playing.

“I think there’s still some old clothes in the closet,” Michael says, only to fill the silence. “But I’ll be fine on my own. Thanks.”

“You sure?” Luke asks, uncertainty in his voice. Michael doesn’t blame him. The only reason why he hasn’t broken down in front of Luke is because he doesn’t wanna seem weak, even though that’s _stupid_ , he _knows_ –

He nods and manages a smile. “Yeah.” Even as he’s saying it, he knows that he won’t do anything about the clothes. He’ll let them sit there, the old flannels and shirts Calum hadn’t worn in forever, and he’ll leave them there only for Luke to come back one day when he’s out and pack them up.

“Okay,” Luke says. “Oh, before I leave, Ashton said something about a book of his? He might’ve misplaced it, he doesn’t remember, or he might’ve lent it to you. He asked me to check.”

Michael gets to his feet, crossing the living room to stand in front of the bookshelf. “Sure. What does it look like?”

“No idea,” Luke snorts, coming up beside him. “Ashton doesn’t even remember. ‘The cover was definitely blue’, he said. Do you recognize any of these books as not yours?”

Michael grins lightly, eyes skimming over the covers. “Don’t know. Half of these books weren’t mine, they were…Calum’s,” he trails off, eyes staring at nothing in particular.

“Oh,” Luke breathes out. “Y’know, I can just tell Ashton –“

“No, it’s okay,” Michael interrupts, shaking himself out of it. “I’m okay.” He grabs some paperback with a dark blue cover. He goes to speak, but his eyes catch on something hidden behind the books. A black velvet box. He frowns and reaches out.

The clock ticking. The fridge whirring. The radio playing.

His fingers start to itch when he’s holding the box. “What’s that?” Luke asks. He opens it. A silver band sits in the middle of the cushion, three small diamonds engraved and Michael –

The clock ticking. The fridge whirring. The radio playing.

The book slips out of his hand. Luke takes a sharp intake of breath next to him.

The clock ticking. The fridge whirring. The radio playing.

His hand closes over the box, over the engagement ring, a hollow feeling in his gut.

The clock ticking. The fridge whirring. The radio playing.

The clock ticking. The fridge whirring –

The clock ticking –

The clock…

He falls to his knees. Luke isn’t quick enough to catch him but a second later he’s next to him on the floor, face worried, voice faraway as if he was underwater. Michael can’t breathe. He can’t –

A sob wrecks through his body and he shudders and then he’s falling forward, into Luke’s arms, and his hand is still holding the box and he wants to throw it away, burn it, never see it again, but he simply holds onto it tighter. Luke isn’t saying anything, is only rocking him back and forth, while the sobs leaving Michael’s mouth don’t sound like his own. It’s been so long since he let himself cry like that and now that it’s finally happening, it’s all coming out at once. Everything from the past months has been building itself up and now is breaking like a dam. The morning of the accident flashes through his mind, getting the call, _hit by a car, driver didn’t see him, dead on impact,_ rushing to the hospital, too late, he was always too fucking late –

And Calum, oh god, Calum was dead and Michael was all alone and Calum wanted to ask him _to marry him_ –

The clock ticking. The fridge whirring. The radio playing.

Luke’s quiet voice in his ear. The box still in his hand. The hardwood floor underneath him.

The clock ticking. The fridge whirring. The radio playing.

-

_[12:12 AM] Call failed_

_[12:15 AM] Call failed_

_[12:40 AM] Call failed_

_[01:03 AM] Call failed_

**[03:09 AM] Michael Clifford:** please

-

He blinks against the sunlight as he steps out of his car and adjusts his sunglasses. He grips the flowers tighter in his hands and takes a deep breath. _It’s now or never_ , he thinks. He begins the short trek down the path and all too soon finds himself in front of the one thing he could never bear to look at.

_Calum Hood_

_1996 – 2016_

_Beloved son, brother, and friend._

_What we keep in our memory is ours unchanged forever._

Michael smiles softly and sets down the flowers, next to the ones which are already there, some fresh and some withering. He spots a few framed photos partially hidden behind the flowers, of Calum and his family, and his chest tightens when he spots one of Calum, with him, Luke, and Ashton. Ashton must have put it there, he realizes, because he always visits regularly. He casts one glance over his shoulder before sitting down cross-legged.

“Hi,” he says, biting his lip. “Sorry for not visiting sooner.” He picks at a loose thread on his jeans and sighs, glancing up to the sky. He frowns and looks back down and takes his sunglasses off, playing with them. “I don’t have an excuse,” he says. “I just – I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t – see your grave.” He swallows. “Maybe then it’d feel real, y’know? Too real. I don’t know what I’m talking about, but I have a feeling that – that you get me. You always did.

“It’s been almost a year. And I’m doing well. I’m not lying when I say this, I’m actually feeling good, and I wanted to tell you because, well, I never thought I’d feel okay again. After you left. But – here I am. I still miss you. Of course I do.” He sighs and runs a hand down his face. “Ashton said to just talk about whatever, so I’m gonna do that, okay? You’re probably laughing at me wherever you are but – hear me out.”

He takes a deep breath, sorting out his thoughts. Starting with the thing that’s been burning in his chest for weeks now wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

“I found the engagement ring,” he blurts out. “I – it was bad, Calum, _I_ was bad, seriously, I broke down and – it was bad,” he says quietly. “I kinda – I wish you would’ve asked me. I don’t know what was holding you back, maybe you were afraid, but – just know that I would have definitely said yes. Of course. It was always yes with you.”

He runs a hand through his hair, blinking the tears that have been stinging at the corners of his eyes away. “Uhm. Luke and Ashton are gonna be parents? Not – not _that_ kind of parents –“ He lets out a small chuckle imagining Calum’s reaction in his head, his eyes wide before he cleared things up, a light slap to his arm, a whine in his throat, the _Mikeyyy_ ringing in his ears. “Donatello got knocked up. And Luke found out that Donatello was actually a _she_ , so, y’know – they’re gonna have little kittens running around soon. I think Luke was crying. Kept saying something about his child and how he’s not ready to be a grandfather yet. Ashton was crying too but I think that was just his allergy acting up at the thought of more cats in his apartment.” Michael frowns for a moment, lost in thought. “Or maybe he was being the sap that he is and was thinking about him and Luke having _actual_ kids and tearing up at that. Anyways, I already told them I wanted to adopt a kitten when they’re born. Ashton was trying to get me to adopt all of them but Luke was having none of it.” He grins at the memory, then looks at the ground. “We never got around to getting a cat, so…” He trails off, shrugging. “A roommate will be nice. Hopefully. I know you always wanted a dog, but – we never got around to that either.”

He falls silent and sorts his thoughts out, the wind picking up and ruffling at his clothes, his hair. “We were – “ he starts, then bites down on his lip. “We weren’t always perfect, Calum. We were messy. We had our fights. But we loved each other. I’ve loved you since we were teenagers. Don’t remember when I fell in love with you, but – it happened. And I was okay with it. I wasn’t weirded out or anything or scared how you’ll react because – you were my best friend, Calum. I knew I wouldn’t ever lose you.

“We got our shit together as adults, as Ashton so kindly put it, and admitted our feelings for each other – it was really sappy, I hope you remember, you were crying – and I was happy. Of course I was. But above all else, you were always my best friend.”

He stares at the tombstone, his eyes tracking the engraved words, a small smile playing on his lips. “If I could rewind the past, I would,” he whispers. The sun was setting behind him and Michael knew he had to leave soon but he still had so much to say.

“I will never forget you, Calum. I will always cherish our life together.” He lowers his head, eyes glued on his jeans. “Ashton and Luke miss you too. They wanna talk about you but never knew how I’d react – but now, when I start the conversation, it’s so _easy_ to talk about you.” He lifts his head. “We always talk about what a massive dork you were,” he chuckles and the wind picks up even more. Michael sighs and glances at the watch. He slowly gets to his feet, brushing the dirt of his jeans, and glances back to the tombstone, the pictures, the flowers – most of them a gathering of whites and light pinks; his own white.

He still wants so much to say but as he smiles down, as he remembers the moment the picture of him and the boys were taken, as the wind ruffles his hair, with the sun warm on his skin –

Well, he supposes he’s got time.

“See you next week,” he murmurs and makes his way back to his car.


End file.
